


All that I'll ever be

by Ephemera_pop (Alex_Draven)



Category: NSYNC, Popslash
Genre: Little Red Monsters, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-13
Updated: 2005-08-13
Packaged: 2018-10-16 19:36:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10578099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alex_Draven/pseuds/Ephemera_pop
Summary: It ended with a conference call.It finally ended with Ron hanging up, and silence on the line between Chris and Ray that lasted just a little bit too long, while Chris’ mind raced, trying to find words that would be enough without giving it all away.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Betty Plotnick's [More Than You Think You Are](http://www.livejournal.com/users/bettyp/141332.html?style=mine#cutid1) challenge.  
>    
>  _I am all that I'll ever be when you lay your hands on me / And don't go weak on me, please_

*****

It ended with a conference call. 

It finally ended with Ron hanging up, and silence on the line between Chris and Ray that lasted just a little bit too long, while Chris’ mind raced, trying to find words that would be enough without giving it all away.  

“You going to be alright, man?”    

Chris cursed silently. 

“Well – it’s not exactly how I wanted things to go …” 

“You know it’s just the timing, right? This has been dragging out for months, but another project, another day, and we’ll both be back in a flash.” 

“You saying I’ve got to pay you to come hang out with me, Brady?” 

That chuckle, even filtered through all that cold technology, warmed Chris’s feelings some. 

“Not hardly, but maybe that’s what it takes to get you working, huh?”

“Well – maybe.” Chris had to concede. “But – like you said – another project – right? I still want to do this somehow.” 

“Sure thing, man, sure thing.”  That silence settled back, until Ray cleared his throat. “Look – I gotta head out if I’m going to make rehearsal on time – call me later, yeah?” 

“No worries – go have fun.” 

“Take care of yourself, right?”

“You too, man, you too.”

The click of his handset disconnecting seemed loud and final: soap-opera signifiers.  

*****

The house was empty and large and, looking out of the rec-room window into the darkness outside, everything felt distant and small.  Or maybe he did.  Chris wasn’t entirely sure.  

*****

“Just checking in – I guess I don’t need to be calling every night just to keep riding you to get stuff done any more, but I seem to be stuck with the habit. And you’re probably partying, so …  I’ll be home all night. Got an idea for a song brewing, so I’ll be up, knowing me, so just - whenever. And while I’m thinking of it, how did the final edit of the stuff for Jeff go?  That was today, right? Anyway – call me. Later.”

*****  
   
The itchy, dissatisfied feeling under his skin finally drove him downstairs to the basement studio.  When he stroked a hand over the front of the mixing board it came up smudged with dust. The first thing that came to hand was a soft crimson t-shirt that Chris could work between the sliders, methodically tugging free the scraps of masking tape with their careful notes and rubbing away the scrim of sticky underneath, removing every trace of the Monsters.

 It was a brief flare of energy, and when it faded Chris realised that the shirt was Ray’s. Had been Ray’s. Whatever. 

*****

“Hey you – you haven’t called me in two days. A guy could get paranoid here – call me back, fucker.” 

*****

He spent the day with Joey, teasing Kelly and wearing Bri out in the pool. Bright sunlit time, and small hands grabbing around his neck, and Joey’s big one pinching at the tension in Chris’s neck, but knowing better than to ask out-right, and for a few hours, everything was fine. Good. Except his house was still large and empty and dark when he had to go back to it. 

*****

“Chris. It’s Ray… just – show a sign of life or something, man? OK?” 

*****

He booked last minute tickets for Vegas. Bright, light, distraction-filled fun. People to call up and party with. Stuff to see, people to do.  

He landed in Vegas, picked up his car, and hit I-15.  

He didn’t stop for drinks and gas until he was out by the preserve and he could trust himself not to turn around, not even when his cell was buzzing quietly on the passenger seat and the shadows were lengthening with a burning-bushes sunset. 

*****

“Chris, man, I’m starting to get twitchy here – its been, like, nearly a week -  pick up the god damned phone and call me, ok?”

*****

Chris called him. 

From the car, parked up on the street, where he could see the single porch light and the chipped paint on the woodwork.  Where he could see the door swing open, and drink down the sight of Ray raising his hand to wave at him, at the same time as hearing ‘There you are.” 

It started with hanging up the phone. 

It started with snapping closed his cell phone and clunk-click opening the hire car door, and taking those fifteen steps, and pulling Ray down into a hug before he could say anything. 


End file.
